Count to Ten
by TheCricket
Summary: DG and Az like to play games with Cain. DG/Cain/Azkadellia.


The gardens at Finaqua are expansive and meticulously maintained, and most afternoons the Princesses can be found frolicking among the numerous flowerbeds and shrubberies with childlike enthusiasm. Their duties in the restoration of the OZ are demanding and this small reprieve from the pressure of the zone sitting on their shoulders is sometimes the only time they have to themselves. Though he will never admit to it, Cain enjoys watching their antics whenever he comes to visit.

"Play with us, Cain."

He knows that despite their authority to command his participation, they're making a request, not issuing an order. They won't ask again if he says no. Two pairs of hopeful eyes gaze up at him; one set a sparkling blue that seems to see every secret thought in his mind, the other a warm brown shining with the revitalization of newfound innocence. The young women glow as brightly as the twin suns in the sky and he finds he doesn't have the heart to refuse. But his manly pride dictates that he put up some kind of resistance.

"Please. No one else will play our games," DG says, and Azkadellia nods gravely in agreement, peeking at her sister from the corner of her eyes.

"What about Glitch? He'd love to monkey around with you two." Now that he thinks about it, Cain is surprised that they're not roping the headcase into their scheme. Surely, Glitch would be far more entertaining than himself.

"We tried playing hide and seek with him last week." Azkadellia's voice turns a little sad, almost guilty.

"Halfway through the game he forgot what he was doing." DG, long accustomed to their friend's impairment, obviously found the situation more amusing than her sister, and grins crookedly at Cain.

"We were hiding for ihours/i," Azkadellia sighs.

Cain's not sure when it happened, but each Princess is clasping one of his hands and tugging insistently.

"Alright, I'll play." He pretends as though it takes a great effort to give in to their pleading.

High pitched squeals of delight echo off the garden walls and Cain can't help but smile as they pull him to sit on a stone bench nearby.

"Now, close your eyes and count to ten," DG instructs carefully, a giggle escaping when he obeys.

He hears the quick tap of their shoes on the brick walkway beneath their feet as the young women trot off to find a hiding place. Once their giggles fade, he begins counting, loud and steady. By the time he reaches five his eyes are open and scanning the garden for any trace of the princesses. At seven he is already off the bench and walking in the direction he thinks they've gone. After ten he creeps silently through the garden.

They've chosen a fairly obvious hiding place, crouching behind a large topiary shaped like an elephant, and he knows that they weren't really trying to fool him. There's more to this game than finding them.

Their laughter, muffled through hands clamped over their mouths, leads Cain straight towards them. But instead of approaching directly, he quietly circles around to sneak up behind the women.

Edging up as closely as he can without giving away his presence, he whispers softly, "Hey there."

The startled women jump and grab onto each other and squeal in shock. As if suddenly acquiring spring-loaded legs, Azkadellia is up and running, DG hot on her heels.

"Catch us, Cain!" DG calls back at him, and he gives chase with a roar of mock-ferocity.

He's faster than them, but the twisting garden paths are difficult to maneuver and Cain has to slow down to keep from skidding into decorative statues and the occasional potted plants. The princesses are more familiar with the layout and easily stay ahead of him. DG tries to keep up with her sister, but Azkadellia's legs are considerably longer than DG's and she falls behind.

Cain sees his chance and charges at the younger sister. She screeches in playful indignation as he picks her up and heaves her over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. He can't run while still supporting DG's weight, but Azkadellia is laughing too hard to maintain her pace and is almost at a leisurely stroll by the time he catches up to her. He's laughing just as loudly and he can't remember the last time he heard the sound come from his own mouth.

With his free left arm, he snares Azkadellia around the waist and pulls her back to his chest. DG pushes herself off his shoulders and ducks under his right arm to fit snuggly against his side. All three stay frozen in that moment, catching their breath and enjoying the warm press of their bodies together. Cain thinks it's amazing how these women can make anything shine, from a tarnished kingdom to a rusted Tin Man.

Azkadellia is by far the more serious of the two, but DG's adventurous nature keeps her from getting bogged down in the mire of responsibilities. And for all of DG's spirit and determination, it's her sister's quiet confidence that guides her energy in the right direction. They're a remarkable pair and Cain can't thank the heavens enough that he was able to help them when they needed it. An OZ without the Gale sisters would be a tragic and dull world to live in.

A bell chimes out over the palace grounds to indicate the time, pulling Cain away from his thoughts on the two women in his arms. They pull away from him slowly as if reluctant to leave the shelter of his body.

"Time for us royal types to get back to work," DG says regretfully.

"Thank you for playing with us," Azkadellia adds with a grateful smile.

Cain watches them walk away, hands clasped together between them, and feels something burn hot and needy in his stomach.

***

He doesn't see them again until much later that night. He is settled comfortable in one of Finaqua's many libraries. This one is small with walls lined in thick, leather-bound books on dark, wooden shelves, and though Cain doesn't care to read, he finds the smell of books and the large, soft chair before the fire quite pleasant. Relaxing in his shirtsleeves, he's even gone so far as to remove his boots. His toes curl into the soft pile of the carpet beneath his bare feet and he sighs contentedly while his eyes drift closed.

The princesses try to slip into the room as quietly as possible, but he still hears them and takes notice of the soft click of the door's lock as they close it behind them. When he looks up, they have secret smiles on their faces, full of mischief and barely contained anticipation.

"Play with us, Cain."

This time he doesn't even attempt to resist. He nods agreeably.

"Close your eyes and count to ten," Azkadellia tells him.

Cain's eyes roll closed and he expects them to dart off like they did in the garden. Instead he's taken by surprise when he feels a soft hand touch his face. Instinctually, he grabs her wrist harshly, and opens his eyes to see both women kneeling by his feet.

The unspoken question is clear on his face, but their encouraging smiles answer only with a request for his trust.

"No peeking," DG chides petulantly and shakes his now loosened grip from her arm. Without thinking, he obediently complies. It's a strange feeling knowing that they're watching him, but being unable to look back at them.

"You have to count," Azkadellia reminds him.

Cain takes a deep breath and starts counting.

"One. Two. Three."

The delicate hand on his face returns and he thinks it's still DG's touch. She strokes across his cheekbone and down the side of his face to his throat. In the hollow at its base she traces a light pattern with her fingertips.

"Four. Five."

He feels another set of hands –Azkadellia? They start at his left ankle and journey upward. This touch is firmer, more confidant than the one on his face. He groans in appreciation as she kneads the muscles in his calf before her hands dance up over his knee.

"Six."

The hands on Cain's upper body are smoothing over his shoulders and chest. A part of him briefly wonders if the princesses tried playing this game with Glitch too, but he realizes that he would rather not know. It's been so long since anyone has touched him like this and he's not sure if they'll stop once he reaches ten; he won't let pangs of pointless jealousy interrupt this little bit of pleasure he has. The tap of fingernails picking at the buttons of his shirt reminds him that he's supposed to be counting and he scrambles to remember where he left off.

"Seven."

The princess by his legs has shifted. He can feel her body heat as she settles into a spot between his knees, not quite touching him, but close enough for him to sense the rustle of her dress when she moves. Her bold hands press firmly into the tops of his thighs, just above his knees, as they stroke towards his hips. When she goes as high as she dares, they skate inwards and scrape long fingernails –definitely Azkadellia- downward along his inseam. The warm burn in his belly sparks fiercely at the sensation and ignites tingling flames across every inch of his skin.

"Eight."

DG is still pawing at his chest, now exposed through his unbuttoned shirt. A humid exhalation on the side of his face is the only warning he gets before a soft, wet tongue traces the shell of his ear. She pauses to lick the hole with a fleeting swirl of her tongue and then bites sharply at his earlobe. The feeling is both pleasure and pain and Cain grunts in surprise. Her responding chuckle makes him wish he could open his eyes and see her undoubtedly pleased smile.

"Nine."

Azkadellia's hands on his waist and DG's on his chest drift closer to converge over his stomach. And then for several seconds their touches are gone and he feels nothing. Are they touching each other? He hears a soft noise that he thinks might be a kiss and he almost peeks to find out. But then Azkadellia's hands are back on his stomach, rubbing gently over the firm abdominal muscles there. He's lost track of DG, but her whereabouts are quickly forgotten when he feels the button at his waistband released. A buzz of his zipper opens his pants fully and he's suddenly glad he doesn't wear anything beneath them.

"Ten."

The last number. Gods, they won't leave him like this, will they? Bare-chested with his hard cock jutting up from his lap, panting like he's just outrun a pack of papay. Every muscle is clenched tightly in anticipation.

Cain's concerns are washed away when the wet mouth of a princess slants hard over his own. Her tongue pushes past the seal of his lips, plunging and retreating in a hypnotizing rhythm while her sister's mouth engulfs his cock.

Blood pulsing hard and fast through his body, he wonders what other games they can play.


End file.
